


Coming Back

by LienidQueen



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 22:44:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13557168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LienidQueen/pseuds/LienidQueen
Summary: Throwback: Kensi and Deeks are running from the Russians after the bank debacle, and Kensi gets taken. Deeks blames himself, but what he thinks is the biggest mistake of his life actually gives him insight onto who he is. Based in the end of 2x10 Deliverance.*repost from FF*





	Coming Back

“I told you,” Kensi smirked at the dirt bag who was pointing the gun and calling the shots. If their situation wasn’t so dangerous, Deeks would have smirked at Kensi’s feisty attitude.

“Then get in the car,” dirt bag said. Oh, no, Deeks thought. That wasn’t happening. Not on his life.

“Uh-uh. She’s not going anywhere,” Deeks interrupted. He made a silent prayer that she would listen to him, for once.

“Then four of us die, and one of us lives,” dirt bag said again.

Already an idea was forming in Deeks’ head: one where Kensi wouldn’t get kidnapped or die.

“He’s got a point,” Deeks said. “Alright, take me.” He could see the betrayal and admiration swirled in Kensi’s eyes, where she hated him for being stupid but loved that he would put himself for her. And really, that was what Deeks always was to her: the guy she loved and hated, and who always had her back.

“Deeks,” was all Kensi said. And Deeks knew she wasn’t going to let him go out without a fight. So as much as it pained him to continue, he kept talking.

“She’s just a cop. She’s not even an agent. To tell you the truth no one even likes her that much,” Deeks said, and he could see Kensi’s horror as she realized he was telling his story, not hers. He was entirely substituting himself for her. “You know, too pretty for her own good, kind of a snob-”

“Get in the car.”

“Kensi, don’t move,” Deeks ordered, but he could see Kensi’s will wavering. He shouldn’t have added the last part of his story. It made her pity him. And if there is one thing that makes Kensi cave, its pity or love. It was pity this time.

Kensi lowered her gun and tossed it into the passenger seat.

“Nice try, Deeks,” was all she said.

“Kensi,” he tried again. This time less of an order, almost pleading.

“Its okay, Deeks. You’ll get me back.” It killed Deeks to know that she had that much faith in him, when he didn’t even have that much faith in himself.

“Her life for the book,” the guy stated simply, oblivious to the pain it was causing Deeks to just watch her go.

“Kensi, don’t do this,” Deeks near begged. He almost had them with “too pretty for her own good”. But then she stepped towards them, ruining his chances. “Don’t. Let them take me.”

“Sorry, Marty,” Kensi replied, and something inside him got crumpled into confetti- Kensi had never called him Marty before, and the first time she did was the last time he saw her before she ducked into the car and got driven away.

He had to do all he could to keep from shaking- they took her, and she just let them do it. He was going to go with them, and let her report to Hetty- his life for hers- but they didn’t fall for it.

All because Kensi had to be his White Knight and step up.

Deeks lowered his gun and used his finger to press on his bud. “License plate Nine-Queen-John-Ida-Nine-Zero-Five.”

He watched the car turn the corner just as Callen and Sam pulled up behind him, and it took all the strength left in him to keep from running, shooting, or crying. He just stood there, stoic.

* * *

“Dammit, Callen! This is my fault!” Deeks slammed his fists into the cement wall.

"Deeks, its not-”

“Yes. It is.” Deeks put his forehead against the cement and lowered to his knees.

“Deeks. Get up.”

“Why?” How could Callen not even care about Kensi?

“We have to go to MTAC to get Kensi back.” Callen was cool. Calculating. At that moment Deeks envied that- to not care about the crazy, tempestuous Kensi Blye. But he did, which made him royally screwed.

* * *

 

“Deeks, you ready?” Callen asked.

“No,” was his reply. It was the only syllable he could muster.

When he got out into the stands of the football field with the greatest dirt bag on the earth, he knew.

He knew the dirt bag could see the pain in his eyes- the pain at loosing his partner and his friend. The dirt bag, damn him, played on that, and seemed to take joy in his agony.

Deeks handed over the book, and he started to walk in the direction the dirt bag indicated, but the Russian’s voice stopped him.

“You love this agent, don’t you?” His suave accent and jolting question did a number on Deeks’ head. He didn’t have to answer that dirt bag’s question. If it had come from Kensi, maybe he would. But this was the dirt bag that had taken Kensi, and he didn’t even deserve an answer.

Deeks just turned back and ran up, praying to every god that had ever existed that Kensi was still alive in her mummy stance.

He burst into the room where she was, gun drawn, and took in Kensi.

She was curled pin straight in a mummy shape, and from a distance she looked calm. But Deeks knew her better than that- her left knee was wiggling, and her luscious lower lip was trembling. Kensi’s hair was sweaty and stringy, strands sticking to her face as she kept her fingers curled into tight little balls.

Deeks saw every feature he loved about her, but each had fallen, making Deeks almost run out and shoot every single man out there who had a role in her kidnapping.

He was about to race to her and pull her into a suffocating hug when she yelled, “Deeks! Stop!”

He obliged. That was the Kensi he knew, not the trembling one he had seen. But his Kensi drifted away again when she paused, and continued softly, “Turn off the lights. Please.”

Again he followed Kensi’s request. When he did, he was filled with dread as thirty red laser beams tracked all over the room. Now he knew why she was a living mummy standing there, and why she was trembling so visibly.

Deeks did the only thing he could- his brain kept going until he got her through the first couple lasers. Until he couldn’t do anything else. That killed him.

“Kensi, you’re going to have to do this one on your own,” he said, and he could see the betrayal in her eyes, that he couldn’t help her. But being the agent that she was, she did it.

Kensi lay on the ground and shimmied under the laser, arching her back near the end and giving Deeks a look at her round butt, which Deeks had to intentionally think to not reach out and touch her. She was so pretty, and she was getting herself out of the stickiest situations.

Kensi had reached the last laser, and Deeks knew he couldn’t use his laser gun on this one. He held out his hands, as a peace offering, an apology for letting her go, and a way to get her back.

“Are you sure?” she asked hesitantly, and for a moment he thought she wouldn’t take his hands.

“No,” he grinned charmingly, and she smiled and took his hands. “Ready? One-”

He felt her squeeze his hands.

“Two,” she said, and he squeezed them back reassuringly.

“Three,” he said, and pulled her as she used all of her leg power left to push away from the room. He could feel the heat as the bombs ignited, and felt his ribs bruise and ankle shatter as he hit the ground outside the room. His ankle felt like it was on fire, as most of the bones seemed to be anywhere but where they were supposed to be.

But what he felt most was the weight that was pressed on him. He could feel every point of contact, like circuit connections, with electricity flowing between them.

His angel was looking down at him: his crazy, tempestuous, Latina, gorgeous, infuriating, enthralling angel, and the one person who bizarrely understood him.

“Thanks, Marty,” Kensi said, and again a volt of electricity shot down his spine. She had called him Marty again.

“You’re welcome,” he said, and brushed a sweaty strand of hair from her face.

She was tracing his jawbone with her fingernails, and it was driving him insane. This was the woman he had barely trusted before today, and now, he realized he had trusted her way more than he thought, because he had entrusted her with the job of caring for his heart.

Because of this realization, however blunt and obvious it was, Deeks reached up to her head and got his fingers caught in her coffee curls. Kensi smiled, using both hands to trace the bone structure in his face, and then pulled his face towards his smile.

And suddenly, his ankle didn’t hurt so much anymore.

* * *

 

“Kensi,” Deeks whined, in a very emasculate fashion.

“Shut up, Deeks,” Kensi snapped. She was getting tired of his whining. It was the least like a PD Cop he’d been since she’d met him.

“It hurts, Kens,” he said, trying to keep his voice even.

“Mr. Deeks, is there a problem?” Hetty asked coming from behind him.

“Yes. I think Kensi needs to be recertified in first aid, because there is NO WAY this girl passed the first time.” He grimaced as she kept wrapping the Ace bandage around the splint and his ankle.

“Mr. Deeks, let me assure you that Miss Blye is the person of our team that you would want to be giving you first aid. Mr. Callen’s bone realignment is not the most pleasant of experiences,” Hetty said, with the characteristic twinkle in her eye when she said it.

“At the moment, I would take that. She hasn’t even fixed the bones yet- just wrapped them with three pounds of Ace.”

“I’ll take it from here, Kensi,” Callen said, stretching his fingers so they cracked.

“Sure, Callen,” Kensi said sweetly, patting Deeks’ head before sashaying from the bullpen.

“Wait, Kensi, I was kidding! Aw, come on! Don’t-” But he cut off as Callen pushed his bones back into place- it made Kensi’s wrapping feel like freaking gumdrops and roses.

“You’re good, Deeks,” Callen said, even though Deeks felt anything but good.

“Kensi wait!” He stood up, let out a groan as he tried to put weight onto his bad ankle, and started to hobble after her.

He was pretty successful, if a person didn’t count falling twice and requiring the assistance of railings and furniture. By the time he reached Kensi, he was so out of breath that he was practically wheezing. He was also very tired, and was putting most of his weight on her shoulder.

“What’s up, Deeks? Callen fix your ankle?” she asked, only slightly concerned.

“Yeah, except I won’t be able to put my full weight on it for a while. I’m probably going to have to spend my weekend on the couch.”

“Pobrecita, Deeks,” Kensi said.

“Hey. I don’t need that, missy. I was going to ask you to keep me company. I’ve got an entire season of _Leverage_ on DVR, and a lot of microwave popcorn and frozen pizza.”

“You would watch _Leverage_.”

“I know. But are you going to watch it with me?”

“Someone’s got to take care of you, Marty,” Kensi said, and Deeks brightened when she used Marty. “Come on; let’s get you an ice pack and my grandmother’s crocheted blanket.”

“I’ll take the ice; I’ll pass on the blanket.” They started to walk down the hallway, and the crew in the bullpen could hear a light-hearted argument drift from their direction.

“To think it took lasers, abduction, and a broken ankle,” Hetty observed.

“No kidding,” Sam said.


End file.
